Sandbox III: Revenge of the Sandbox

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SCP Sandbox

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Special Containment Procedures: SCP-4084 is to be detained in a modified humanoid containment chamber. SCP-4084 may request the following: a.) a vase of flowers primarily consisting of roses and sunflower daisies, b.) a television set and c.) a library of old literature books.

The room should contain an observation window on the left side for research purposes. Two armed guards are to be posted outside of the containment chamber.

A Class-D Personnel shall enter SCP-4084 containment chamber every five (5) hours and engage it in a conversation about literature in order to prevent SCP-4084 from attempting suicide or committing self-harm. Any Personnel in the vicinity of the containment chamber are not to act violently or to make reference to anything related to war and violence.

Maintenance is to be handled by three crews. One is for cleaning the containment chamber, the other is for adding more books to the mini library and the third is for cleaning the cutlery provided to SCP-4084.

SCP-4084 shall be provided with 5 liters of Valvoline Gasoline (tm) every month in order to maintain SCP-4084's locomotion movements and health.

Description: SCP-4084 is a 182.88 cm tall humanoid heavily augmented with gears and steam pipes. The cranial part of SCP-4084 is sewn with a chrome plated mining hat mounted with a headlamp device. The face of the anomaly was obscured with a chrome plated mask that resembles a human skeleton. A valve point is mechanically affixed to SCP-4084's left eye. Both arms of the anomaly remains as a stump where two weapons are originally connected. Further research has allowed us to identify the weapons previously attached. The left hand was a circular saw 7 inches in tall and 9 inches wide. The right hand, through further research has shown that it was a steam-powered cannon that fires off pressurized metal with a force of 200 psi per second. Both weapons were detached upon SCP-4084's request. SCP-4084's exposed chest is also augmented as well. The anomaly's left breast was replaced by a set of rotating gears housed inside an unbreakable glass.

The composition of SCP-4084's upper extremities remained in its original form which consists of 12% biological tissue that belongs to a member of the Homo Sapiens species. The anomaly's lower extremities were completely replaced with artificial mechanical legs. A rectangular metal box was bolted to SCP-4084's back. Upon inspection, it contains one (1) cylindrical gas tank, two (2) metal tubes, three (3) spoilers that emits steam, and SCP-4084's serial tag.

SCP-4084 previously inhabited the basement of the University of Oxford in Oxford, England where students of the university has reportedly seen a "strange man covered in bronze". Foundation Agents investigated the report and found SCP-4084. MTF Sigma-26 "Bookworms" was formed to apprehend SCP-4084. Upon apprehension, SCP-4084 showed no signs of hostility and willingly surrendered to the Foundation's custody.

SCP-4084 requested for the removal of his weapons upon arriving at Site-19. SCP-4084 remains cooperative and friendly to Foundation personnel. It always talked about literature and authors, its "home", oppression and abandoning a "duty" which it regrets but shows pride of doing so. Further research has shown that SCP-4084's speech patterns and the journal entry found on the book previously in its possession (See Journal Entry-4084-01) implies that the anomaly has abandoned its original directives by chance.

Upon full inspection, the following items were found and confiscated by the Research Team Echo-Delta 04: one (1) cup wire brush, three (3) empty oil cans of ██████ brand, one (1) small shovel, two (2) sheets of sandpaper, one (1) handheld computer device with brass keypads and stained chrome vanadium casing and a worn-out journal with a red leather cover.

Addendum 4084-01: SCP-4084 is believed to be a hundred years old based on carbon dating tests on the remaining biological tissue exposed on its torso. SCP-4084 has divulged that it arrived to our dimension fifty seven (57) years ago in Severny Island.

Addendum 4084-02: SCP-4084 is known for its friendly behavior. There is a single occurrence where SCP-4084 had acted violently that it required the assistance of ten (10) guards to subdue him. A Class D Personnel, D-5534, has referenced the Je████ Ho███████ which angered SCP-4084. D-5534, three guards and two researchers were killed in the subsequent containment breach.

Addendum 4084-03: The journal confiscated from SCP-4084 is illegible due to sloppy writing and age wear. However, there are five pages that were still readable and compiled into one page for the benefit of this research. (See Journal Entry 4084-01)

In the land of the forgotten old,
where the skies are as dark as midnight,
and the air as bright as flames,
there is a kingdom of gears and steam and levers,
ruled by a Monarch of the flesh,
whose mind remains untouched,
and decisions all flawed from word to word.

The year is 1854,
by then, the kingdom of gears and steam and levers,
has evolved to an empire supported by fifteen provinces.
Each subjects under conquest,
are required not to think.
No thought, no rebellion.
For all the damned good king wants was an empire,
of obedience and control.
Not of doubt and chaos.

In this year, there is only war,
every other year is always the same exact year.
Forever and ever, stuck in that year of battle, of steam and of blood.
The kingdom, which is now the empire of gears and steam and levers,
is supported by a never ending conflict.
Each pillar of the castle is built with skulls and each soil is covered with blood.
All subjects are called to serve.
Three caste, all humans, no souls.
Nobles, Warriors and Slaves.

Our ways of living is sustained by the sacrifices of the Slaves.
Their souls live in our machines and devices.
This is the decree of our Emperor;
The lives of a million is worth more than the lives of a few hundreds,
for we only depends on our technology as a means to our living.

Our Emperor is like a Father,
a noble teacher with an all-seeing eye.
He taught us that to think is to defy,
to talk is to rebel,
and to upgrade is to blaspheme.

It was night of September of 1854,
the skies remained unchanged no matter the time,
we charged, slay and shoot,
we are in a frenzy, I am not in control.
I know not who our enemy was, never have been, never had known.
The last blood is shed and everything is silence,
Then all of a sudden, a bright flash of light appeared.
It burns like the fires of a thousand suns,
devouring everything in each path.
Then like a child waking up from a nightmare,
I know instantly that whatever,
Is in control of my fate,
has faded from the dimension of unseen reality.
I have slipped free, and now I'm, in control.

It was night of September of 1854,
the skies remained unchanged no matter the time,
I stood in millions of corpses,
the traitorous flesh and my mechanical brethren,
all share the same grave or blood stained rubble and stones.
Ahead, I see what looks like a tear of fabric,
I believe it is what separates,
from the world of you and I.
I walk with curiosity in my heart, entered and faded.

There I came to be, your prisoner from the nightmare of 1854.
You saved me from an inescapable nightmare,
I am in debt to all of you,

POI 1

The city was shrouded in the darkness of the night. The moon shines above, illuminating the city in a full glow. Store establishments began to switch the lights on their storefronts to push the shadow away.
The night was beginning, and so the hunt for Alex Petrikov.
A van painted in midnight black zoomed past a gloomy road. It was obscured by bushes and weeds, making it hidden in the public eye. At day, a car or two would take this road to get from Belfast to the main city. It was accessible to the public had it not for the wild plants that sprout on the path that leads to it.
It was a helpful shortcut, both to the drivers and the operators like Agent Bouchard.
Bouchard's eyes were firmly watching. His eyes darting from left to right until they reached the end of the road, towards the main city. Lights bathed their surroundings, even permeating through the tinted windshield.
The city was bustling with activity.
It was night of 24th December, making the hunt hard. Most of the people would be in their home spending time with their families. Fathers like him would be eating with his own family.
But the apprehension of Alex Petrikov was much more important, if they wanted to have another Christmas Eve to spend with their family in safety.
Alex Petrikov was an Ano-Terror, or Anomalous Terrorist specialized in making anomalous bombs. He was said to be a member of the GRU Division "P" of the Great Russia. An information regarding Petrikov's cell had told Operators of the MTF Omega-20 that they are going to hit St. Stephen's Green Park.
Massive casualty, Bouchard thought. He wouldn't let that bastard take a thousand lives for the sake of their ideals.
Behind Bouchard was the rest of the Squad Foxtrot, sat opposite one another. Agent Miguel Barrientos had put his gas mask on, a common piece of equipment in their Task Force. His mind focused on the task at hand and the man in front of him, who keeps staring at him. He can read his mind and sense the fascination of the man behind that grim gas mask and darkened lens. He couldn't blame Agent Bill Adams. He had learned that the man had fought three Anarts in his career.
Had those been criminals who use anomaly to their own villainous schemes, Bill Adams would be no more.
He sensed that the man was comparing him to that boy in blue jacket. The image of the boy was clear in Adams' mind as the former police officer sees Barrientos as similar to him.
Barrientos simply ignored it. Despite the man's age, he decided to act maturely than him and simply dropped the matter. The man in front of him had no idea of what he was thinking.

Chicago Incident

Agent Miguel Barrientos released a deep breath, his heart beat twice faster than a racecar. The sound of gunfire and bullets slamming against concrete filled his ears as the troops of the Mobile Task Force Omega-20 and the SWAT Team of the UIU FBI had fired against one another. It had begun when a ganger from the Chicago Spirit, a POI for the Foundation, was apprehended by the UIU SWAT. Omega-20 acted out of fear and instinct as they put all efforts to retrieve the POI.
And it now arrives to this.
Barrientos peeked around the corner, towards the alley. He spotted his UIU counterpart in a dark blue combat gear. His face obscured with a helmet and his vest was marked with FBI on the back and front. Barrientos opened fire. His bullets slamming against the visor of his enemy. His aim had stayed true as the bullets penetrated through the skull of his target.
The man's thought immediately stopped in an instant. Emotions were connected with a person's life essence. It's how Barrientos sees people. Their emotions were so abundant, it affects him in many ways. It was either sadness or joy.
But regardless of that emotion, once a man's thread of life is cut, Barrientos would cease to feel that man's emotion.
He proceeded down the alleyway with Agent Miles behind him. Agent Miles' rifle spoke. Bullets whiffed past as it hits concrete wall and wooden crates. Barrientos focused on his own target. He saw another SWAT Member peeking over the corner. He fired three times, two had hit concrete wall while the last one had grazed the man's left temple. Barrientos felt that the man was stunned. He advanced cautiously as he fired a few more shots, hitting the man on the faceplate. He watched the man's corpse convulsed before it hit the ground, the flow of emotion and life dying away with him along with his last breath.
He peeked over the corner and spotted the dead guy's partner.
It was true that person's life would pass before his eyes at the moment of his death. Barrientos could say the same for this man clad in midnight blue tactical gear. He saw clearly the image of the man's newborn daughter and his wife recovering from pregnancy, his early experiences in the Unusual Incidents Unit and his father, a former LAPD Detective and his mother, a public school teacher. He had a great childhood compared to him. Life as a Tausug in the jungles of Mindanao is not a pleasant one if the Armed Forces of the Philippines and various militant factions had turned your home into a bloodied battlefield. For the first time, Barrientos had felt mixed emotions. He felt anger for not deflecting this man's emotions and memories from his mind. He was envious from the man's rich childhood. He was jealous because he had a complete family not unlike him, whose father had died in the horrors of the war. But what dominates all these emotions was the emotion of pity for this man.
Barrientos is a soldier, nothing more nothing less. He sees the Foundation as his glorious superior. The cold methods of the Foundation didn't bothered him and he couldn't care any less. After all, it was for humanity.
As for this man, he was a sacrifice for the security of mankind.
Four bullets in the faceplate was all it takes. The man he had come to know as FBI Agent Cory Ferguson fell backwards on the cold pavement of the alleyway. His visor shattered and his face was wrecked beyond recognition as four 5.56 NATO rounds penetrated his face and turned it into a pulp of red gore. He noticed that the firing had stopped and he sensed Agent Miles' hand tapping his shoulder.
"Nice shot."
Barrientos didn't answered. Out of all the surviving combatants, he was the only one affected so badly that he begins to question himself.
What weighs more? Your morality as a human being or your duty as a soldier?
He let out another sigh as he promised himself not to repeat that careless mistake of letting enemy thoughts slip inside his mind. His radio rang; all units were being summoned back to the van and the ganger, or the POI, was under their custody.
For the final time, Barrientos casted a glance at the dead corpse of Agent Cory Ferguson. He oddly felt the euphoria of happiness in his heart as he studied the man's corpse.
For Cory, this battle had reached its conclusion a very long time ago.

Training Day

"Greetings, Mr. Barrientos. Please step before the mirror." A voice on the speaker says.
It was Barrientos' first day in Site 19. After his retirement from the Philippine Marine Corps, he was invited by the Foundation to be inducted in their ranks as an Operative due to his psychic capability. Especially that fateful day in Marawi where he saved thirty people from a crumbling building using his willpower alone. Today was training day. He spent a night under their custody and Barrientos couldn't help but feel like a prisoner. The room was whitewashed. The only furniture available was a bed and a silver toilet with a sink above it. A mirror can be seen on the opposite side of the room. He suspects it as a some kind of an observation window since he could feel the emotions of the people behind it. There are two of them. Whoever they are, they are doing a great job suppressing their thoughts. But nothing could actually escape him even if that person was protected with antimeme procedures.
He stood from his bed and did what he was told. Behind the glass, he could feel three men entering the room behind it. He regretted his decision of accepting the Foundation's invitation but he was running out of money since he left the Marine Corps.
"Please leave the room with arms outstretched. You will be escorted by two armed guards to the Psionic Chamber. Any hostility you show towards any personnel will be dealt accordingly." The speaker said again.
He followed, opening the white door. A guard immediately appeared with a rifle aimed at him.
"Arms outstretched!" The guard commanded.
He extended his arms in a surrendering manner and slowly stepped out of the room. The guard lowered his rifle and they began to move across the maze of white corridors with identical appearances. They walk past doors upon doors until they arrived at a particular door that looked like the other.
"Step inside." The guard ordered, pointing at the dark room beyond with the barrel of his rifle.
He entered and the door immediately shut behind him. Soon enough, the light opened up, engulfing the entire room in brightness.
It was a room surrounded with walls of mirrors. Miguel Barrientos could feel emotions of the spectators behind the walls. He could feel them, and there are many of them.
"D-33452, step inside." A voice says.
At first, he didn't noticed a door on the far end of the room. Had the light above it didn't flash green, he wouldn't saw it. A man in orange jumpsuit entered inside. He was athletic and by the looks of it, the man would be a match for him.
Barrientos was wearing a black tunic.
"Mr. Barrientos, please incapacitate the target in front of you."
It was easy. All they have to do is ask. Miguel Barrientos had done this before, back in the city of Batangas where he killed a member of the New People's Army with a thought. Killing someone using telepathy was as easy as tearing a paper.
All they have to do is ask. Why Barrientos is doing this even if the organization could not be trusted is he doesn't know.
He visualizes the man's mind as a pulsating orb of red. He imagined his mind in the shape of a crossbow. He sharpened a malicious thought like a deadly arrow and within a split second, he immediately launched the arrow towards the red orb. The thought was a mix of despair and hopelessness. Something that could kill the human spirit.
But he exerted an anomalous thought within it.
D-33452 fell in a heap, unconscious. He did not killed him. He decided against it at the last moment before he could completely launch his thought.
Three guards entered from where the D Class came from. They dragged the body away before another D Class replaced the unconscious one.
"D-55997, please attack Mr. Barrientos. Extreme lethality is encouraged."
Barrientos cursed at whoever is beyond the mirror but he couldn't reach her mind. The mirror must be protecting them in some way. The D Class in an orange jumpsuit was stocky, with arms like small tree trunks. He charged, swinging a fist at Barrientos. The former Marine ducked and with his left fist, he punched the nuts of the D Class before seizing his legs and tackling him down to the ground.
He was fast and agile, due to six years in service. He was an enlistee by the age of 18.
Now he was 25, and he may have probably killed a lot more people than this man. None of which seemed to have bothered him.
Three punches to the face was all it takes for the D Class to be submissive. He stood up, triumphant.
"Please eliminate your target, Mr. Barrientos."
Lifting his left hand, he imagined the man's mind as an apple and his own mind as a strong hand. He visualized with closed eyes that he was reaching the apple. And with one mighty squeeze, the D Class' head was turned into a bloody mess.
Two guards entered and dragged the body away. Soon enough, they were replaced by three more D Classes.
"Mr. Barrientos, incapacitate your target without touching them or without mentally assaulting them."
He waited for the nearest man to attack. He was thin and skinny. He grinned as the man charged at him. He imagined the man was a piece of paper. He lifted him up with his thoughts and slammed him to the ground hard.
He did the same thing with the others.
Soon enough, six guards entered, dragging the corpses away. He waited for more D Classes but none came afterwards.
"Congratulations, Mr. Barrientos. You have passed the Gray's Psychic Chart test. Please leave the room immediately. The guards will have you escorted back to your room.
And he followed what he was told. He was loyal to the core, a trait you will develop in the Marine Corps.
A trait that will either save you or kill you.

Item#: SCP-XXXX

Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXXX is to be contained in a 5m x 5m titanium cell reinforced with additional material made from vanadium alloy. Access to SCP-XXXX is prohibited outside of the personnel assigned for the delivery of SCP-XXXX's daily sustenance. Any materials made from concrete or wood is not allowed to be admitted inside at all times with the exception of feeding hours. A block of concrete weighing 150 kilograms shall be delivered to SCP-XXXX's containment chamber by one Class-D Personnel and two security personnel armed with Heckler & Koch MP5 submachine guns. In the event of a containment breach, Applied Task Force Beta-12 ("Sword Vanguard") shall be notified and all instances of SCP-XXXX-1 shall be eliminated and SCP-XXXX shall be neutralized with a strong tranquilizing agent immediately.

Description: SCP-XXXX is an entity that resembles a human brain. It was approximately 65 inches in height, and 98 inches in width. Further examinations reveals that a hollowed cavity in the bottom of the entity is where SCP-XXXX manufacture SCP-XXXX-1 instances through unknown biological means.

SCP-XXXX-1 is an instance which originates from the cavity of SCP-XXXX. Instances of SCP-XXXX-1 appears to be humanoid entities with missing limbs. The faces of each SCP-XXXX-1 consists of a complete feature with the exception of a visible mouth. SCP-XXXX-1 nourishes itself through a vertical cavity from its chest. SCP-XXXX-1 achieves locomotion through crawling by its abdomen.

Addendum-XXXX-1: SCP-XXXX-1 instances were first recovered in an abandoned subdivision located in Chernobyl, Russia. Missing houses made from concrete and wood were apparent indication that SCP-XXXX-1 instances have consumed it for sustenance. SCP-XXXX was located and recovered four weeks late when further studies has shown that SCP-XXXX-1 instances were incapable of sentient thought and only relies on the instruction of a hypothesized controller, which is SCP-XXXX.

Researcher's Note: Had it not for Doctor Robert's proposal, we wouldn't be able to track down and locate SCP-XXXX.
His Radioactive Static Theory has enabled us to find SCP-XXXX by means of an walkie-talkie.
The signal sent by SCP-XXXX was mixed with radioactive and all it takes was a radio device and a Geiger counter.
-Dr. Adam Wallace

Chapter 12 - SCP 5 Practice

Item#: SCP-XXXX

Object Class:Euclid Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXXX is to be contained at a standard humanoid chamber in Site-17. The room should have three electric plug sockets installed on the walls powered by a generator that shuts down every 12 hours. The chamber is to be secured with manual locking devices and only to be unlocked to admit researches with the intent of conducting tests to the entity.

Before admission, all visitors shall surrender all electronic devices to the Level 3 security personnel on duty. They will be required to wear a rubber based protective suit for the safety of both the visitors and SCP-XXXX.

In accordance to the 12/09/2018 UPDATE, Mobile Task Force Iota-15 ("Circuit Breakers") was formed for the containment and neutralization of the entities that shared the same traits with SCP-XXXX, which, for the benefit of this research, will be designated as 'SCP-XXXX-A.'

SCP-XXXX may request the following items:

(*) An electric guitar.

(*) An album of the band, Powerwolf.

(*) An automotive battery with the standard body size of 6SM.

Description: SCP-XXXX is a bipedal humanoid entity which possesses the head and facial features resembling a creature that belongs to the species of Canis Lupus. However, SCP-XXXX's head is connected to a body of an average muscular human being with a height of 188.12 centimeters. SCP-XXXX is capable of withstanding 3000 voltage of electricity and can project the same amount of current at a directed target. SCP-XXXX takes sustenance from outlet sockets and other form electrical conduits to recharge its body and for survival reasons.

SCP-XXXX-A is a designation for a collective of unknown number of entities that shares with the same kinship as SCP-XXXX and presumed to possess the same anomalous properties with SCP-XXXX.

Addendum XXXX-1: SCP-XXXX is first spotted by civilians residing in the woods of South Carolina after seeing a 'werewolf that shoots thunderbolts out of its hands while singing the lyrics of For Christ & Combat.'

Addendum XXXX-2: Upon recovery, Mobile Task Force Eta-50 ("Technicians") was mobilized for the apprehension of SCP-XXXX. However, SCP-XXXX engaged MTF personnel, incapacitating them before surrendering to MTF operatives. When asked why did it surrendered to Foundation custody, it just simply says, "I didn't surrender to you. I just planned to stay in here, sir, but after a few years, I'm gonna walk out of here and no one can stop me. Even if you did, my brothers out there will bust me out."

UPDATE 12/09/2018: SCP-XXXX is now reclassified as Keter-class and additional safety measures were included.

UPDATE 02/19/2019: MTF Iota-15 has intercepted an encrypted transmission of a Powerwolf song, 'We are the Wild' playing on their Task Force frequency. Additional precautions will be taken for the containment of SCP-XXXX.

I CANNOT STOP LAUGHING WHILE WRITING AND READING THIS DRAFT FILE -RESEARCHER CARL

Special Containment Procedures: Provisional Site-253 is constructed for the containment of SCP-XXXX. Mobile Task Force Gamma-88 (“Mall Cops”) is assigned for the security of Provisional Site-253 and to assist in the neutralization of SCP-XXXX instances should they attempt to breach containment. Under the guise of local law enforcement, the vicinity around Provisional Site-253 is to be patrolled by members of MTF Gamma-88. Warning signs and fence links are established to discourage non authorized personnel from intruding. MTF Gamma-88 is to stop any civilians who have inadvertently excursed close enough to Provisional-253 where SCP-XXXX is contained. Under no circumstances any individuals are allowed inside of SCP-XXXX without proper clearance from any Level 3 Security Personnel or higher.

For the exploration and the neutralization of SCP-XXXX instances inside of SCP-XXXX should they affect the external environment outside of SCP-XXXX, MTF Omega-55 (“Who Let The Dogs Out?”) are to be deployed to handle the termination and possibly, containment should the SCP-XXXX instances managed to breach containment or leave SCP-XXXX.

Description: SCP-XXXX is a designation given to an extranormal dimension located on the top of Mount Himalayas. It appears to be a circular wormhole approximately 1.73 cm in height and 1.23 diameters in length with a purple coloration in the rim of the portal and radiates golden yellow light in the center. It was inhabited by instances designated as SCP-XXXX-A through -E. Remote observation reports that instances of SCP-XXXX-A through –E were occasionally seen appearing from the dimension before entering inside after three minutes of idle.

SCP-XXXX-A through –E instances shared the same origins as the other. Each instance appears to be constructed out of cardboard materials and shows sentience. This was observed when an instance responds to auditory and visual stimuli. However; containment of the instances were met with failure due to the hostility it shows against Foundation personnel.

SCP-XXXX-A is a designation given to an entity that inhabits within SCP-XXXX. It was the only SCP-XXXX instance that was observed to be outside of SCP-XXXX. It was a small rectangular entity with what appears to be a cardboard core protruding out of its midsection (henceforth designated as SCP-XXXX-A-1). When threatened, SCP-XXXX-A-1 will aim itself at a perceive threat. A glowing streak of light will launch from SCP-XXXX-A-1 and will terminate the threat in question.

SCP-XXXX-B is a humanoid entity with a rectangular body that lacks any proper head and has long limbs that also appears to be constructed from cardboard cores. The limbs terminated to an enlarged boulder sized fist that appears to be paper mache in appearance but weighs 300 kilograms. It is first seen inside of SCP-XXXX when MTF Zeta-9 (“Mole Rats”) was dispatched for exploration purposes. It utilizes its fists to maim and terminate any targets in its direction before emitting a loud roar from its body.

SCP-XXXX-C is a quadruped entity covered in hard construction paper that acts as its outer skin for the protection of its inner skin. Spikes made out of cardboard are notably observed on the spinal area of SCP-XXXX-C and acts as its defense and attack mechanism against a threat. SCP-XXXX-C behaves similar to that of the Canine Lupus Familiaris or common household dogs and were utilized as attack hounds by the instances of SCP-XXXX instances.

SCP-XXXX-D is a humanoid entity similar in appearance to SCP-XXXX-B albeit its hands were replaced by rectangular cardboard cores that were observed to launch projectiles at its target. The projectile (hereafter designated as SCP-XXXX-D-1) detonates two seconds after being fired.

SCP-XXXX-E is an identical humanoid entity similar to SCP-XXXX-D and SCP-XXXX-B but possesses no ‘weapons’ found on SCP-XXXX-D and SCP-XXXX-B. They have not shown any hostility to Foundation personnel. However; they are observed to flee from them while emitting a loud noise as if it was calling for any nearby SCP-XXXX instance for help.

(Zeta Team descends what appears to be a mountain covered in a powder-like material. Thermal scans shows that the temperature of the material is below -50 degree Celsius.)

(The next three minutes shows Zeta Team walking across a semi transparent green river. Video feed detected sparkling lights in the water. The next two minutes shows a set of trees that were seemingly made out of hard plastic, inhabited by small insectoid species. Zeta Team is not aware of the insectoid’s presence and continued to cross the river.)

Zeta Lead: SiteComm, did you hear that?

(Zeta Team froze in place and drew their standard issued sidearm. Zeta Lead inquired one more time but no sound is picked up in the video feed.)

SiteCommand: Describe what you hear, Zeta Lead.

SiteCommand: Proceed with caution.

(Zeta Team continued for another five minutes. At this point, the sound was picked up by the video feed. A humanoid entity later designated as SCP-XXXX-C appears in the frame, launching itself towards the members of Zeta Team.)

(Loud incoherent screams were heard followed by a few expletive curses that were redacted at the time of writing. A fight between SCP-XXXX-C and the members of Zeta Team occurred. SCP-XXXX-B instance was eventually terminated. No casualties were reported in the occurred fight.)

(Zeta Lead, Zeta-3 and Zeta-4 bent beside a deceased SCP-XXXX-C instance. Its body took up the entire frame of the video feed. Bright red fluid is visible from its wound and its organs that were observed to be made out of paper still pulses.)

Zeta Team: Samples obtained. We’re moving out. Let’s go, team.

(The following thirty minutes consists of Zeta Team walking across the forest of plastic trees with no incidents. They eventually reached a clearing where a large wall was built.)

Zeta Team: No Zeta-1, we cannot just punch through that wall. Who knows what danger awaits us in the other side of it.

SiteCommand: Report.

Zeta Team: We found a large wall, SiteComm, which looks like it was…(Zeta Lead approaches the wall and removed his glove to touch it.)…made from cardboard.

SiteCommand: Continue.

(At this point, instances that were later designated as SCP-XXXX-A floats into view. It was hovering above the large wall with SCP-XXXX-A-1 aimed at the team.)

(A battle suddenly broke out. SCP-XXXX-A was eventually terminated but another instance replaced it. Two more appeared to aid the other instance until a dozen came into view.)

Zeta Lead: (Gunfire) SiteComm, we are pinned! We are requesting extraction, over!

(Loud chatter can be heard in the background of SiteCommand as the Head Researcher discusses with possible extraction options with the Mobile Task Force Commander.)

SiteComm: We are sending an Extraction Team to your location. Retreat back to the entry point, over.

(Another thirty minutes passed, the Zeta Team is running back from the forest while pursued by instances of SCP-XXXX-A.)

Zeta Lead: I see the mountain! Zeta-2, oh shit! No!

(The body of Zeta-2 perforated with holes appeared into the frame. Sheaf of papers can be seen growing out of Zeta-2’s wounds.)

Zeta Lead: Dammit, we lost her! SiteComm, do you read me? Where is the Extraction Team?

SiteComm: They see you now, keep ascending.

(At this point, Zeta Team successfully reached the entry point. Members of the Extraction Team appeared in the frame, firing at instances of SCP-XXXX-A before finally retreating inside.)

[END LOG]

Incident Report XXXX-1: Instances of SCP-XXXX-A appeared from SCP-XXXX in swarms that consist of at least dozen. Mobile Task Force Gamma-88 (“Mall Cops”) relieved Mobile Task Force Zeta-9 (“Mole Rats”) from their duty. Due to the expertise in the subject matter, Mobile Task Force Omega-55 (“Who Let The Dogs Out?”) are deployed for the termination of SCP-XXXX instances as well as exploration of SCP-XXXX

It was a Sunday morning in the third day of the month of Kerbin, which is an equivalent of December in the Gregorian calendar. Cooper wore his black tuxedo and slacks for today’s worship. Just like everyone in New Doggo City, the denizens are obliged to attend the Mass of the Great Wolf every Sunday, unless their religion is different.
Cooper made sure to make himself presentable to the Eyes of the Great Wolf, and those around him. After all, cleanliness is next to wolfliness.
He was a seven foot tall white furred Laika with brown patches all over his body. His red eyes gleamed every time the light of the triplet moons hits it. He walked outside of his house and followed the rest of the crowd towards the golden cathedral up ahead.

“In the beginning, there was darkness.” Father Douglas began. He was a German Shepherd who possessed the same height as Cooper and a fervent follower of the Great Wolf. His green eyes darted slowly from left to right, addressing the wide audience before him before continuing. “Out of the darkness came a voice. And it says, ‘Let there be light!’ and the first Morning was created.” He recounted the tale of the Beginning of the World. The young puppies present in the Cathedral listened with fascination as if the tale was told the first time even if they have heard it countless of times before in Father Dogulas’ sermons. He concluded the tale of the Creation

The night was young. The city was bright with neon lights attached on storefronts, bright lampposts and moving vehicles. The winter was coming and the people were busy fiddling with their phones or talking to one another about who has the most beautiful Christmas decoration. As usual, this was just another normal night.

Unbeknownst to them, a firefight was taking place between the operatives of Mobile Task Force Omega-20 and a cadre from Chaos Insurgency in the abandoned part of the city. Armed with a rifle loaded with psychic deterrent bullets, Jason Wilde of the Insurgency successfully killed his third WOLF operative.

Under his command, his subordinates were succeeding in taking down their psychic enemies. All that was left were LANCEs, who solely rely to the WOLFs for assistance.

He brandished the blade entrusted to him by a Delta operative and swung at the direction of an Agent. A black hole appeared and, like a hungry maw, swallowed the Agent whole. He grinned widely as he took cover. When the firing stops, he swings again. Another Agent was trapped in a black wormhole.

Your request for the development of the combat stimulant that Mobile Task Force Sigma-18, codenamed, "Blackened Shards", has been completed and will be issued three weeks from now. The upgraded version of Nitro-Amphetamine has addressed the issues that your operatives suffers from. The following issues addressed were listed below:

Post-Mission Detoxification: The formulation of the combat drug were modified by removing the excessive chemical and toxic compounds to reduce the frequency of the Detoxification process that your operatives needed to undergo every post missions.

Enhanced Performance: While the previous iteration of the drug has already enhanced the user's performance on the field, the current version of Nitro-Amphetamine further increases this by granting other advantageous effects to the users such as enabling them to see in the dark or allowing them to locate sources of sounds in low volume.

Speed Improvement: The current version of the Nitro-Amphetamine further enhanced the user's athletic performance on the field, making way for a possibility of lessened operative casualty in every operations.

If you have any further questions, please reply back and notify me.

-Dr. Alice Robertson

The sound of the Dancefloor's music can be heard as the lift slowly ascended. The veteran Agent Richard Madrigal glanced behind him to see his four-man rookie squad, excited and nervous. They were visibly shaking; a common thing that rookies usually experience when the drug were introduced to their systems for the first time.

They were issued with the newest version of the Nitro-Amphetamine. The other team they are about to face against with in this combat exercise were comprised of veterans issued with the old Nitro-Amp 1.0.

The purpose of the exercise is to compare the effectivity of the new Nitro-Amp and its old incarnation.

"Listen up, men." Madrigal commanded. "Our primary objective is to retrieve Blue Team's flag while protecting our own. The Dancefloor will be loud and crowded, I hope you get used to it. That is how the actual battlefield is like." He turned to face the front and issued another order. "Activate your RUSH and DUBSTEP."

As the doors of lift parted, it revealed a large room reminiscent of an interior of a warehouse. The floor and walls were lit up in psychedelic colors coming from neon lights and the air was covered in a fog of the first version of the Nitro-Amphetamine. Crates and tables were scattered all over the warehouse, as well as spent bullet casings, emulating a battle zone.

"Alright, let's move out!" Madrigal ordered as he clutched his hyper paintball rifle tight and made for the nearest cover: a flipped table. He inhaled a lungful of Nitro-Amp 2.0 and immediately, he perceived the mock up battlefield into a garden filled with butterflies.

In his vision, his teammates appears to be humanoid caterpillars in strange exo suits, armed with laser rifles. He ignored them and aimed at the general direction of the enemies.

Madrigal moved around the table and advanced to enemy territory quickly. His heart was beating twice faster as the electro house music issued from his DUBSTEP filled his eardrums. He reached the end of a cargo container and immediately stopped when he heard footsteps.

He peeked at the corner and saw what looks to be an oversized shit emoji with an angry face. It was raising its "Like" rifle.

In reality, it was an operative from Blue Team, hearing his approach. The Agent opened fire; Madrigal stepped aside as the Like hand sped its way past him. The bullet was too slow for him, Madrigal thought. He fired back at the shit emoji and he disintegrated into dust.

The Blue Team operative raised his hand as he made his way out of the mock battlefield, letting Madrigal, who was unaware of his presence at the moment, to move past.

Madrigal climbed on the cargo container and crouched, using the shadows created by the cover to hide him. He watched the shit emojis and the caterpillar soldiers fight one another. The latter was winning, at this moment, something he was thankful for. He made a precision jump to the other container and landed. Nearby, he saw the flag on the top of its pole.

He dropped with a roll and moved quickly. He snatched the flag from its base and sprinted back to their territory, encountering a few shit emojis. He tried to remain hidden most of the time but those he cannot avoid, he shoots.

He let out a sigh of relief as soon as he placed the enemy's flag beside their flag.

Five men in tan and olive uniforms were watching from the obscured observatory window above the mock battlefield. They were satisfied with the conclusion of the combat exercise.

Upon seeing the results of the combat exercise two weeks ago, we are confident to put Sigma-18 into the field with their newly acquired asset. A small squad from Mobile Task Force Alpha-45, codenamed, "Pathfinders", were dispatched in the city of Queens to investigate an extranormal event, hereafter designated as Event Alpha Maitreya. Event Alpha Maitreya was related to the recent disappearance of the entire population of the city. News media outlets were fed with false information and the non-Foundation personnel involved with the case were administered with Amnesiacs.

The investigation led to a small cadre from Chaos Insurgency that possessed an anomalous artifact with a possibility that they are behind the disappearance.

Sigma-18 is to be deployed at your discretion for the termination of the Insurgents and the retrieval of the anomalous artifact.

Have a nice day.
-Dir. Lewis Graves

"Listen up," Agent Richard Madrigal spoke, half turning to address his men behind him. "Our Mobile Task Force was assigned to retrieve an item under the possession of the Insurgency." Madrigal paused as the readouts in his visor scrolled across his vision. He raised his hand to activate both the RUSH inhaler and the DUBSTEP earpiece. Upon inhalation of the Nitro-Amphetamine, his heart palpitated and his perception started to alter.

"Anyway, as I was saying," Madrigal, from a minute of silence, continued. "The item is a 12 inch cleaver capable of opening up extradimensional wormholes when swung." He paused as the ramp of the Troop Carrier slowly opened to reveal an urban landscape. "Our mission is to retrieve it from them. Moles inside the Chaos Insurgency have reported that they are about to use it as a weapon in a hit somewhere in Lisieux." He turned to the building below them which, in his vision, a giant block of chocolate. "Godspeed." He jumped on the rooftop and rolled.

He hefted his silenced MP5 submachine gun and glanced behind to see his three-man team jump down from the carrier above. The carrier was modified to suppress any noise that its rotary blades and engines might produce. Madrigal sprinted across the rooftop and jumped to another rooftop filled with moving cactuses.

Madrigal focused on the view ahead. It was night and the moon was smiling at him. He and his team were relying solely on the light of the cheerful moon. The grey buildings were uninhabited, save for a few moving cactuses that seemingly eating the building to rubbles and dust.

Down below, he could see red sapient humanoid liquids seeping out of the crack across the pavement, trying to break into the scattered abandoned vehicles. Aside from the product of his drug-induced hallucinations, not a single life could be found in this abandoned city.

He jumped and rolled on rooftops before he stopped at the seventh building when the motion sensor readout on his visor chimed to announce that their objective is nearby. He glanced from left to right before moving to the ledge and made a turnover vault, entering a floor through an open window.

"Stay alert," Madrigal instructed as he activated the infrared flashlight of his weapon. The hallway was dark but in his vision, it was bright as a day. "I detect Insurgents on the floor below us."

The hallway was crowded with friendly Casper ghosts. Some of them, were accompanied by the miniature sized of Marshmallow Men cheerfully waving at him. Madrigal ignored all of these.

The team arrived from the rooftop and dropped behind Madrigal. Once everyone is present, Agent Lawrence tapped Madrigal's right shoulder, telling him non-verbally that they are ready to go.

Without word, they descended a spiral case, towards the second floor where they saw three sleeping Insurgent guards. Madrigal and his team knew what to do. They spread out and put bullets on the Insurgent's head each.

After that, Madrigal swept the floor; it was a hall, same as the first. A door can be seen on the end of it. They moved towards the door with an increased pace, ignoring the product of their hyperactive imaginations. Madrigal opened it up and they were greeted with a sight of another spiral staircase which they have descended as well.

Arriving at a catwalk overlooking the first floor below, Madrigal saw lights. He spotted twelve Insurgents guarding a sheathed blade inside a rectangular glass. Around them were empty wooden crates.

Madrigal issued orders with hand gestures. Agents Lawrence, Ferguson and Kaplan complied and spread around the catwalk while Madrigal remained in place.

They counted mentally from ten to one. When the time is ripe, Madrigal vaulted over the catwalk and landed on the back of an Insurgent. He pulled his knife and drilled it on the man's jugular repeatedly with a hand muffling his target.

He heard muffled screams from his team's intercom radios.

Four down, eight to go. Madrigal muttered under his breath as he pulled the corpse he made and rested it against the crates behind him. He was lucky that the Insurgent happened to stand behind crates, making it easier for him to hide the body.

He peeked over and spotted a lone Insurgent standing on a corner. He raised aim and fired. The suppressed MP5 fell the man down. He moved across the floor and rolled to another crate. He heard corpses falling silently in the team's radio.

"How long do we have to stand guard?" An Insurgent asked his colleague as Madrigal shot another one with a silenced Berretta.

"Well, as long as the higher ups told us too." His colleague replied as Lawrence grabbed an Insurgent from behind and slit his throat. "I heard the ops in Lisieux would be a dangerous one."

"How so?" The Insurgent asked as Kaplan fired upon his target with his suppressed MP5. The man, before slumping to the ground, was caught by Kaplan, who gently laid the body on the ground and then pulled him out of sight.

"Well for one, a big fish from Alexylvia University would be closely guarded by God-knows-what. Secondly, I'm pretty sure the GOC pigs are watching it too." The colleague replied as Ferguson terminated the third to the last Insurgent guard by sneaking up on him and breaking his neck. "They wouldn't wanna miss it out."

"Miss out what? It's just a bloody conference, what's so special about it?"

"Hands where we can see them." Madrigal ordered as they stepped out of a crate. His voice was mechanical outside of his suit.

"Oh shit." The Insurgent yelled. Without thinking, he and his colleague raised their weapons to fire but Madrigal and his team were currently intoxicated in pure adrenaline. In a split second, the Insurgents fell to the ground with perforated bodies.

Agent Lawrence removed the lid of the panoflex glass while Madrigal aimed at the corners where other enemies might possibly be hiding. Meanwhile, Ferguson unwrapped his Anti Anomalous cloth and wrapped it around the blade of the sword.

"We're good." Ferguson said.

"Alright, let's move out." Madrigal ordered.

They climbed back the way they came in and found the carrier waiting for them on the rooftop. They left in an instant, leaving no trace of their visit like ghosts.

Agent Hughes entered Colonel Cole Jackson's office. the first thing he saw was a uniformed man behind an aging desk; the old man's name was displayed on a black marble plaque sitting on the top of it.

"Sit down, Hughes."

Agent Hughes complies. He pulled the mahogany chair in front of the desk and sat.

"A proposal to form a new Mobile Task Force was approved five hours earlier." Jackson began. "The purpose was directed to a Group-of-Interest's dissolution and the apprehension of the Persons-of-Interest involved in it. Operation True Masquerade was underway."

Agent Hughes remained silent as the old commander went on.

"Field Agents reported that the POIs in question were recorded to possess superhuman speed, strength and intelligence, outsmarting and outnumbering the Foundation operatives who have engaged them in combat." Jackson paused as he scrutinized Hughes for his reaction. He found none. "I suspect it's because of the gang tattoos that the POIs wore."

"What Group-of-Interest are we talking about, sir?" Hughes asked. it was the first time in this conversation that the Agent broke the silence between them.

"Four Tri Syndicate was a criminal group that runs prostitution rings and sex slavery. They were backed by smaller anomalous groups that haven't been identified as of now. It primarily operates in Asia, but their notoriety in the anomalous crimeworld earns them reputation and support, allowing them to operate outside of Asia." Jackson paused to allow Hughes to ask questions. Hearing none, he continued.

"Operation True Masquerade was enacted with the deployment of the new Mobile Task Force, trained and prepared against the GOI, but no doubt, it will suffer heavy casualties. They knew they will suffer losses. Which is why, I have called you."

Hughes nodded.

"With the blessing of our Site Director and a senior operative who previously served in my old Task Force, you and a Parkour Squad are to be deployed ahead of Mobile Task Force Gamma-9, codenamed, Crimebusters. Your mission is to obtain the paraphernalia they use to tag their members. The moles we have inserted inside their group have located it. The information will be sent to you in the prep room."

Insertion.

Agent Hughes and three other Agents has successfully entered the city through the forest located behind it. He found himself staring at a three storey building and wasted no time climbing it with the help of the cills and lintels of each windows with closed curtains.

He climbed on the top of the rooftop with his subordinates in tow. He rolled forward as he inhaled the artificial gas and continued, sprinting across the roof and executed a precision jump on another building with the same height nearby.

He glanced to the right and swept the area with the muzzle of his silenced MP5. The sun was setting on the horizon. He could have felt the breeze had it not for his face mask. He continued down that direction and jumped to a lower building. The module attached to his leg took the brunt of the impact.

He sprinted again just as his teammates arrived. He made a turnaround vault and hung there for a second, seeking for any accessible window. Unfortunately, there is none. He glanced up to warn his teammates when a window opened below him.

The owner of the apartment was woke from her nap. She glanced up to look for the noise but she found nothing but an empty space. She shrugged and withdrew her head inside, but leaving the window opened.

Hughes' reactive camouflage deactivated. He dropped onto the cill of the open window and jumped inside. The owner had her back facing him. Apparently, she was in the process of boiling some water. Hughes drew his Amnesiac Dart Pistol and fired at her. Before she dropped, Hughes caught her with his arms. He carried her while his teammates entered inside the apartment block and laid her on her bed.

"Having fun?" Agent Yankee asked as he turned the stove and the running faucet off.

"No." Hughes says sternly as he left the room in an instant. He opened door and quickly made for the staircase at the end of the hallway.

"Where's the target?" Yankee asked his superior and friend.

"It's in a van on this building's parking lot." Hughes replied as they descended the flight of stairs, past the ground floor and towards the basement. A white double door ended the stairs, which Hughes gently pushed open.

He swept the dark parking lot. Oddly, it was empty with only a handful of cars occupying some spaces. However; a red van stood out the most. It was guarded by a bald guy in black sleeveless shirt. Hughes could see the glowing tattoo on the left side of his head.

Taking a deep breath, he inhaled a huge amount of the adrenaline gas. He glanced back to his team and said, "Let's show them who's faster!"

They moved out of cover, spreading with weapons aimed. The man spotted them and immediately raised his pistol. He attempted to take a shot but the operatives were a blur, too fast to be targeted.

"Hey!" The man yelled as he slapped the side of the van. "We have company!"

Hughes fired at the man, hitting him in the neck. Yankee moved at the front of the van and fired at the driver inside; he slumped on the back of his seat with bleeding holes on the forehead. The side of the van opened, unloading three tattooed gangsters with sticks and pistols.

The first one sprinted at the nearest Agent. Coulson inhaled and aimed at the approaching gangster. He pulled his trigger but his target sidestepped. He took a step back as the gangster made a dash for him.

"Oh shit!" Coulson yelled as a fist slammed against his gut. He was sent sliding across the ground. He picked himself up and drew instead, his suppressed Beretta and let out a couple of shots at the approaching target. The gangster narrowly missed them.

Coulson rolled to the left as the gangster swung his metal pipe. He managed to dodge the attack. In retaliation, he aimed at the hip of his enemy and fired. The gangster didn't anticipated this move, making himself vulnerable.

Crouching in pain, the gangster let out a scream as Coulson aimed his gun at the back of his head and fired, killing him.

Agent Tucson was struggling to shake off his pursuer. He fired blind shots in panic as the enemy draws near. He lifted the Agent up and slammed his face on the ground. The sound of a RUSH inhaler exploding is audible. The gangster lifted Tucson's body up and slammed it on the ground again. Hughes shot him numerous times in the face while he was distracted lavishing his victorious moment against the Foundation operative.

Hughes approached Tucson's body. His visor was blown to pieces. The gas leaked from his inhaler with a sharp hiss. Hughes removed Tucson's face mask and headgear and wished he hadn't.

The final gangster charged at Hughes while he was distracted. He turned to raise his weapon but it was too late. He landed beside Tucson's corpse but luckily, Yankee and Coulson perforated the last gangster with shots from their MP5.

Hughes stood up. He and his remaining team approached the van. Coulson opened the back door and saw large transparent tanks containing cyan liquid.

"Let's destroy this." Hughes ordered.

Agent Gray Hauser examined the building below him. Based on the reports he read, the building will dematerialize six hours later, only to materialize again after twelve hours. This occurs both in daylight and nighttime. Explorations conducted by Mobile Task Force Zeta-9 has fed them enough data as to what inhabits the building.

"What's the status?" Hauser asked as he glanced behind.

For this mission, three Parkour Squads and a Hacker Squad will be deployed. Each of them had the same mission.

"Weapons, checked. Gears and Equipment, online. DUBSTEP and RUSH," Agent Bordeaux paused to press the button on the inhaler and the earpiece attached to the left side of his helmet. "On."

Their mission was simple. Infiltrate the structure and hack into the inter communication network. Once it was done, the operatives of Sigma-18 will play a loud noise over the speakers in order to disable the inhabitants. This will help the Foundation contain the anomaly easily and without resistance from its occupants.

Bordeaux passed Hauser a sonic-based anomalous rifle. Hauser received it and carefully hefted it. The aerial troop carrier slowed down and floated above the building's rooftop. Hauser and his Parkour Team jumped from the carrier's compartment and landed with a roll. He inhaled a lungful of nitro-amphetamine and froze for a second as the onset phase settles in.

He stood up after the onset phase. He didn't noticed the rest of the Parkour Squads that had successfully deployed around him. He approached the door on the rooftop and opened it. They silently descended in one line until they reached a door.

Hauser opened it; a pristine hallway greeted his sight. It stretched from left to right, at first glance one would know that it was untouched from the day of its construction. He stepped and swept the area with the muzzle of his sonic rifle: none.

The motion detector on his visor blared. An orange blip appeared south east of their position. The mission objective. He moved to the right in a blur and then made a turn to the left as soon as the hallway ended. They quickly reached a double door that had automatically parted as soon as they got close enough.

"Keep your eyes peeled." Hauser said as they descended the staircase behind the doors.

The staircase ended with another double doors that Hauser pushed open. An identical corridor stretched out in front of them, clean, pure and no doors.

They moved across the corridor with an increased pace. They reached another double door without any incident. They descended the staircase once again and entered another hallway.

At first, Hauser didn't noticed anything but his attention were caught by a humanoid simulacrum in a corporate attire, carrying what looks to be touchscreen datapads.

Hauser raised his sonic rifle and opened fire. The sound of dark synthwave playing on their earpieces were launched at the target in a streak of semi transparent blue light. The simulacrum was sent on the other side of the hallway.

Three more simulacrum appeared from the walls. They were wearing SWAT gears and stun batons. Hauser presumed them to be the building's security personnel.

He fired at the nearest target. His subordinates opened fire as well. The white skin that covers the simulacrum scorched in an instant. Their featureless faces were quickly burned by the sonic blast.

Hauser and the Parkour Squads paused. They were waiting for more simulacrum to appear. When none came, he approached the nearest figure and examined it.

It was an android, coated in white material with the purpose to imitate a human skin. Yellow thick fluids oozes out of the tears and burns that their weapons inflicted. Their skeletal frame that appears to be metal in nature is exposed, covered in yellow.

They advanced to the double door and descended the staircase. They found themselves standing in the middle of another hallway. They crossed it; a simulacrum appeared. Its hands contained long sharp nails. It charged at Hauser with a speed of a rabid dog. Hauser fired at its mid section, amputating its body in half with scorch wounds. Similar entities flooded through the hallway, each emitting a sound from a nonexistent mouth.

Hauser and his own Parkour Squad fired at waves after waves of mindless lethal automatons, burning them down with loud party music. The roar of the entities were drowned by the sound of dark synthwave played by the rifles. From afar, it sounds as if an orgy was taking place.

But the reality was far from that fiction.

The fight ended after a few minutes with simulacrums burning on the ground. Few of the Sigma-18 operatives were wounded, but could still operate. Hauser instructed them to move forward with a yell. They navigated the hallways that had become a maze of white walls. They reached the double door where a simulacrum was hiding in wait. Hauser fired at its head and continued down the staircase.

Three more floors and fights worth of thirty minutes before they finally reached the floor where the building's intercomm networks is located. Sigma-18 had lost over six operatives in the battle, including a Hacker Squad member. Hauser, covered in yellow liquid, aimed at the green door in front.

"This is the boss battle." Hauser said. "Prepare to fight."

He opened the door and found what's behind it. He was right; a gigantic android with huge hands, body and legs greeted their view. Above it was a kitten with enlarged red eyes, encased in a circular glass. The giant android was surrounded by hundreds of simulacrum. This army is what stand between them and a huge flat screen monitor attached to a terminal on the wall.

Hauser knelt a knee on the ground and fired at the nearest simulacrum. Its torso burned as soon as sonic particles tore through it. He rolled to the left as he evaded another simulacrum. He was about to open fire when he saw that Bordeaux killed it.

He fired at the other simulacrums. Streaks of blue light imbued with dubstep track music burned their skins away, exposing yellow liquid and silver skeletal frames. One had managed to come too close. Hauser sent the stock of his rifle at its face. It was thrown backwards but its face was unscathed. He fired at it before it could take a swing. Its face were burned away easily.

Hauser took a deep breath of his nitro-amphetamine. He presed a button on the side of his helmet; it responded with clicks and clacks. It blocked off all the external noise around them.

The room exploded in bright colorful lights followed by the sound of Skrillex's music. Another Sigma-18 operative threw a second dubstep grenade and the room lit up even more.

The simulacrums fell to their knees with scorching skins. The gigantic android charged at them and seized a Sigma-18 operative with its big mechanical hand. It squeezed the Agent like an orange. His blood and flesh splattered everywhere. Hauser fired at the glass that protects the kitten behind it. He ordered his subordinates and the other Agents to direct their rifles at it as well.

The glass shattered within seconds. The kitten inside exploded as loud electrohouse invaded its fragile body. The remaining Hacker Squad wasted no time sprinting and vaulting over bodies to reach the terminal.

They get to work, fast hands typing the keys of the keyboard. Soon, dubstep and synthwave track flooded through the speakers and burned all its inhabitants. The Sigma-18 operatives immediately raced back the way they came from as soon as their objective is completed.

The formation of Mobile Task Force Lambda-67, codenamed "The MVPs", were requested for the following operations:

The retrieval of anomalous item 1 and the detainment of POI-7727, and the cleanup of Anomalous Site-56, the focal point of the effect of anomalous item 1. The following equipment will be issued to Lambda-67:

North Ashen Land, population: 3 million. Known to the Foundation by its designation, Universe-Kappa-Ramayana. The continent to this extranormal dimension was vast, divided into four regions and inhabited by various minority of humanoid tribes and creatures. The upper part was covered in snow, the southern part was crawling with vines and trees, to the west one would see the neverending sandstorm of the great deserts and to the east was the volcanic regions of the continent.

In the middle was something different. Acting as the border between the four great regions of North Ashen Lands was the Sigma-Kapala Sector. An enormous urban and civilized city surrounded by luscious sea of verdant grass, this city is the center of everything.

However, open warfare between the regions were common and the city of Ashena was constantly besieged, caught in violent crossfires in the tribal war.

This worries Director Harris Beckner, director for the Department of Extranormal Dimension Department of the Foundation. It would only take three months before Ashena falls to dust.

Across him, the wide monitor displayed the face of a Dalmatian dog, wearing orange robes that denoted his rank as something important. Delegates that Beckner sent knew them as "High Priests". For what religion, Beckner didn't know but it was related into a belief of cardboard hell.

"High Priest, with all due respect, your men were down to forty percent efficiency. You will require help from us eventually."

"I value our friendship with your Foundation, Director Beckner," his accent hinders him to pronounce Beckner's name and title properly, "but we would not want to disturb all of you with our problems."

"For God's sake, you were not disturbing us, High Priest." Beckner stared at the figure in the eye. "I have a contingency plan in the event that your Western Wall breaks down. Now that it happens, we will intervene now."

"What is your plan then?"

"I will send a negotiator to your city and I will have him hold a conference to your city for a truce. None of us wanted a conflict like this in the first place."

"The Black Lotus and the Green Fangs will never listen. The Skies were the only allies we have but the Claws always make things worse. We already tried."

"Not with the Foundation at your side."

"I hope you're right, friend." The transmission ended.

Beckner was silent for three full seconds, contemplating what to do next. He picked up phone beside his desk and dialed a number that does not exist.

"Call Russels. Tell him it's a Code Red situation."

Nathan Russels silently walked across the hallway of Site-69, towards the door at the end of the hallway where a signage that read "EXTRANORMAL DEPARTMENT" was hung. Harris Beckner was an old friend of his. Before he assumed the responsibility of a Department Director, many times he pulled his ass from the fire back in the days when the Foundation has use of them both in the field.

Now things were different.

He opened the door and entered quietly. Beckner was sitting behind the desk with his face planted on both palms.

"What's this 'Code Red Situation' you're talking about that you have to wake me up so early in the morning?"

"Ashera's under siege for months now and it will only be a matter of time before the city fell."

"How does it relates to me?"

"My plan is to send you to Universe-Kappa-Ramayana for a negotiation mission before the shit hits the fan, which is already happening." He ignored Russel's question.

"What's your plan?"

"Plan is to conduct a conference for a treaty between the tribes of North Ashen Lands. Ashera was a great obstruction between the tribes and all they want is to tear one another apart."

Russel nodded.

"Who'll be with me and when are you going to send us?"

"Five weeks from now, Nathan." Beckner said. "And I'll be sending Lambda-45 as part of your security detail. The tension between the natives of Kappa-Ramayana was too intense to be ignored."

"Okay then." Russel nodded, standing up to leave. "What will be the objective of this treaty?"

"The Skies and the Hounds has already entered alliance, however, the the Claws and the Cranes were continually attacking and besieging the city. So the peace talks shall aim for a ceasefire between the tribes long enough for us to devise a permanent solution."

"To prevent them for doing it again?" Russel asked.

"Yes." Beckner replied.

"Well then," Russel stood from his seat and turned to leave. "See you after five weeks."

"I'll call you, Russel, and Jones as well."

"Send my regards to him." Russel left. His footsteps echoed across the hall.

Colonel Malcolm Jones stood in front of fifty five men in black shirt and cargo pants, each were in parade stance, looking at their superior in front.

"You are gathered here because of your skills in machinery, combat and athletics." Jones began his speech. "You will be a part of a Mobile Task Force that will be part of Ambassador Nathan Russel's security attache. You will be deployed on an extranormal dimension." He glanced to the left and nods at a uniformed man, who in turn, ushered a duo of men in jumpsuits pushing a trolley.

"This is the Hyper Launcher 2000, capable of sending things faster than the speed of light. You will be trained to handle this piece of sweet equipment that Site-55's Tech Division created for us." Malcolm grinned. "Alright, Lambda-45, let's begin your training."